


Would it kill you to be civil?

by loveinadoorway



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 8,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2263953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinadoorway/pseuds/loveinadoorway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Tony Stark.... </p><p>Wasn't on the menu, but somehow happened. And keeps happening, so stay tuned for more add ons. Might just be drabbles and ficlets, might get bigger, who knows where my muse will take me, fickle bastard that he is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Maybe I used too many monkeys?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LiveJournal comment_fic group prompt by doreyg: Avengers movieverse, Loki/Tony Stark
> 
>  _You like monkeys, you like ponies_  
>  _Maybe you don't like monsters so much_  
>  _Maybe I used too many monkeys_  
>  _Isn't it enough to know that I ruined a pony making a gift for you?_  
>  Skullcrusher Mountain, Jonathan Coulton
> 
> Ficcery title and quote are from the same song.

_Picture the two of us alone inside my golden submarine_  
_While up above the waves my doomsday squad ignites the atmosphere_  
_And all the fools who lead their foolish lives may find it quite explosive_  
_Well it won't mean half as much to me if I don't have you here_

How in the name of all that was holy had he ended up like this?

Tied to a bed, completely nude, with something nasty shoved up his BUTT? REALLY?

The last thing Tony remembered was chatting up a gorgeous redhead and downing his god-knows-how-maniest glass of champagne. When the cutie suggested going somewhere more private, he had grinned like a jackass and had gallantly asked her to lead the way.

And there endeth the story.

He groaned. Hangover from hell. Or worse. And Jesus, what was that thing inside of him, it felt ginormous.  
A tall, thin figure strode into the room, then stood in front of Tony, all poised elegance and lethal grace.

“Loki,” Tony growled, groaning inwardly. This was not going to end well.

“Mr. Stark, such a pleasure,” the demigod purred.

“I heard you were dead”, Stark said easily, while surreptitiously testing his bonds.

“Funny, I heard the same about you. Twice, if memory serves me right,” the Asgardian replied.

Loki sauntered over to a cabinet in the corner.

“I have a gift for you, Mr. Stark.”

Strange, the Asgardian’s silky voice was barely above a whisper, yet Tony understood every word. He was trying to slip his left hand from the leather cuff that held him and was trying to make good use of the time Loki’s back was turned.

“You might find this modified suit quite, errm, INTERESTING.”

Tony’s head snapped up. Suit?  
Loki threw open the cabinet doors. Tony’s incredulous gaze took in green and gold and horns. Fucking horns, if you believed it.

He snarled: “What the fuck are you playing at? I wouldn’t be seen dead in this… this….. sickening tin can!”

“Pity. I modified your designs, gave you better thrust and more fire power. Asgardian technology, of course. Quite advanced,” came the bored reply.

Loki’s back, however, looked stiffer than usual. Or maybe Tony was imagining things.

“Oh, and you can stop trying to slip out of those cuffs. You won’t manage.” Loki turned around, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Could you at least pull whatever the fuck this is out of my… you know?”

Loki smiled and Tony wished he hadn’t asked.  
A few strides brought Loki to Tony’s side. Long elegant fingers ghosted up the inside of Tony’s left thigh. Stark shuddered involuntarily, but it startled him to realize it was not revulsion that had prompted the reaction.

“Oh, Mr. Stark, the THINGS I would do for you,” Loki whispered. “I’d lay continents to waste for you, I’d burn stars and I’d freeze the sun… And I hate that I feel this way.”

Those wickedly deft fingers were toying with the plug in Tony’s butt now. 

“Why do I hate it? It’s a weakness, Tony. May I call you Tony? Yes? Thank you kindly.”

Tony gasped as the plug slid completely free, only to be mercilessly pushed back inside. 

“You see, don’t you, that I can’t let you go. You would use my weakness against me. That is why I built you a new suit. I will put it on you and you will forget.”

Loki smiled, all teeth and sharp angles.

“Forget that Miss Potts ever existed, forget that you were once friends with your little band of misfits, including my dear brother. You will forget everything, except that you are filled with the burning need to … serve me.”

The plug continued its dance and Tony tried very hard not to get aroused further by Loki’s other hand that was massaging his balls.

“It was fascinating, when I could not bend you to my will in New York. Fascinating and frustrating at the same time. So I decided to find a way. And I did, in the darkest annals of Asgard.”

“You… ah…. You built me a suit so you can force me to love you? Never occurred to you to send flowers, wine and dine me, maybe? Is that the way you court in Asgard,” Tony ground out, trying to regain some composure.

Loki laughed. And boy, that was scary. It felt good, way too good. And it felt wrong, oh so wrong.

“Not my thing, courtship. Romance. So tedious. Why bother when I can make you roll over like a good boy with just the push of a button?”

“Well, maybe because it isn’t worth shit when I don’t do it out of my own free will,” Tony said quietly.

Loki stilled completely. 

“Nobody in their right minds would be with me voluntarily,” the Trickster whispered. “I am an abomination. Not even my so-called parents could ever truly forget what I am.”

Tony later claimed that he himself couldn’t believe the words that spilled from his lips, nor did he have any idea where they might have come from. He had no explanation except that maybe it had sounded like a challenge. And yes, he was THAT stupid.

“Try me.”


	2. 100 words from the vortex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LiveJournal comment_fic group prompt by Iceybreath: MCU, Loki, never stop falling

It was bottomless, the darkness.  
He fell ever deeper, screaming, twisting and turning. Nothing to hold on to, nothing to light the pitch black pit around him.  
There would be nothing to break his fall, he knew, should he ever hit the ground.   
Where was his power, where was his might?   
Here, there was only desolation, desperation and cold, cold night.   
For a brief moment, he thought a ray of light had found its way to him, but it had been a mere illusion, like everything else in here.   
So Loki kept falling through the everlasting night of his mind.


	3. I would walk 500 miles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Predictably, this thing is not going well. We'll see. I might have to make it a lot worse, before I can make it better.  
> And why am I even writing this? This is not even remotely in OTP territory... I am growing ever weirder and weirder.

He hobbled along the side of the highway… byway, fucking road to hell, swearing soundly.   
His naked feet hurt like blazes and it felt as if the powers that built this road had tossed every single sharp and pointy bit of gravel they could find on the soft shoulder. Soft shoulder? Hell, should be called a fucking fakir’s bed instead.  
He winced as a particularly nasty piece bit into his instep.

Seriously, what the fuck, really?   
One minute, he was writhing on silken sheets, while that fucked up asshole demigod was using his wicked fingers on him in unspeakable ways. Next thing he knew, he landed hard on all fours in the middle of nowhere. And he didn’t even know what the fuck he had done wrong.

Great, really, buck naked, well-lubed and probably knee-deep in redneck territory, where men could get shot for less. He was squinting into the darkening skies ahead, but there wasn’t even the tiniest speck of light to be seen in the distance.

Just when he was good and ready to just give up, crawl into the bushes and die, a car approached from behind.  
Tony wearily held out his thumb, very sure the car would speed past – and that would actually be the best case scenario, he reckoned. To his surprise, however, it stopped.

“Can I help you, son? You look like you’re in a pretty untenable position, there,” a mild voice enquired and Tony stared into the myopic eyes of what appeared to be a priest.

“Funniest thing, Father,” Tony ground out, improvising and trying to recall the punishment for lying to a priest, “I was taking a bath in a lake back there and when I came out, my clothes were gone.”

“Well, there’s a blanket in the backseat. Afraid that’s the best I can do for now. Where do you need to go, son?”

“Anywhere with a telephone I could use would be perfect, Father. Thank you,” Tony said as he wrapped himself in the rough blanket and got in the car.

Loki was huddled in a corner of his bedroom.   
The marble floor was cold and hard. In fact, it was everything HE should be.   
So why was he sitting here, shaking in the worst way? He should be riding Stark by now, hard, angry thrusts that that blasted man would not forget any time soon. He should make Iron Man come, screaming Loki’s name. No, better still, making incoherent noises, because he was that far gone.

He’d be hard-pressed to put his finger on what exactly was wrong. He had been taking his time prepping Stark, had listened intently to each delicious moan and groan he had coaxed from the man. Had enjoyed exploring that surprisingly hard body. Had been more aroused than he had been in a long, long time.

And then, suddenly, he had known that he could not ever let that man go, that he needed him, that he could not possibly live without him.   
It had choked the air from his lungs.  
And he had blasted Stark from the room, because Loki of Asgard could not and would not feel that way for anyone, least of all a mere human.


	4. What's with all the screaming?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's the sex now. OMG, and we're only in chapter 4. I am turning into a monster...
> 
>  
> 
> _Even my henchmen think I'm crazy_  
>  _I'm not surprised that you agree_

Tony sat in his spacious living room, playing around with a few improvement ideas for the suit.  
Truth be told, he’d have given his right arm to take a peek at the Asgardian upgrades Loki had come up with, but that ship had sailed now, hadn’t it?

He ran his hands over his eyes. Yeah, that ship had sailed. And sunk. For good. Damn. Why was he still so hung up on the dickhead? Anyone who kicked out Tony Stark and stranded him in the middle of nowhere, naked no less, should not feature in Tony’s thoughts as prominently as Loki did.  
The hell was up with that?

He took another sip of Scotch and tweaked the input values for the hydraulics a bit. The screen started flashing red.  
Dammit, Tony, concentrate.  
He spent the next half hour getting the values back to their original positions, then tossed the tablet aside with a disgusted snort.

Nope, he needed to get laid and presto, he was no good like that. He needed to fuck the Asgardian out of his system. He needed to strengthen the playboy part of the billionaire – playboy – philanthropist equation.

An hour later, he made his way down to the garage, sporting his sharpest suit, ready for action. The Viper, he thought, yes, that was the car that fit his current mood.

“Going somewhere, Stark?”

Tony was slammed face first against the concrete wall, each hand caught in a grip like a steel vise, hot breath against his ear.  
Smelling like booze and sex and winter wind. The man was all hard angles and tight muscles against Tony’s back. And none of that should have been as hot as it was.

“I actually like you better naked and moaning into my sheets,” that silky voice nearly purred into Tony’s ear.

“Well, you had me there and then apparently decided you didn’t want me, after all. Walking naked down a deserted road in Montana for hours kind of tends to put a damper on my enthusiasm to have sex with you. Forgive a man for wearing his Sunday best and trying to get laid by someone who is not a psychopath after that experience.”

Loki laughed. Not a reassuring sound, that.

“You are still making the same mistake, Stark, namely to think that I give a rat’s ass about what you want or what makes you happy. You are… a distraction. A toy to help me pass the time.”

Loki’s lips pressed on that special spot on the edge of Tony’s jaw, with just the tip of the tongue teasing the sensitive skin. Tony tried in vain not to moan. It felt like losing.  
Especially when his erection was rubbing tantalizingly against the wall with each little shove Loki gave him. Dry humping a goddamn wall and loving it.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea… He needed to stay away from Stark, not get drunk and shove the man against a wall, pressing hard against his back. He was hard, he was angry, he was scared and he … he just craved. Craved contact to another person, craved sexual fulfillment, craved to be noticed for something other than being the villain of the piece.  
So there he was, drunk, horny and craving, breathing down Tony Stark’s neck. And he had no clue what to do next.

Tony started to fret. Nice as this manhandling thing felt, strangely enough, wasn’t it time to move things forward? Yet there was nothing happening, except Loki’s breath becoming more erratic against Tony’s neck. Well, no risk no fun.  
With a vicious twist, Tony reversed their positions, or rather, he shoved Loki’s back hard against the wall now, because he wanted to SEE what was going on. There was a strange, twisted smile on the Asgardian’s lips, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“So, Loki…” Tony whispered, drawing out the L longer than was strictly necessary, “What brings you here, then. Can’t be the sex, since you’re not actually playing, are you? All tease, no bite, eh?”

The twist in the smile somehow deepened.

“Maybe it’s your turn to do the biting, Stark. Think you’re up to it?”

What was that man up to? Seriously? Tony wasn’t entirely sure this whole shindig was a good idea, but then again, round one hadn’t exactly been a stellar effort, either. So he did what he always did. When in doubt, dive right in.  
He slanted his lips across Loki’s and gave it his all.

He tasted booze and some exotic spices, or maybe that was just what demigods tasted like. Loki had gone completely still against him. Tony licked the inside of Loki’s bottom lip, then went on to stroke the other man’s tongue with his own. Long, strong fingers were suddenly digging into Tony’s bottom, pulling him closer.

Then, just as suddenly, Loki broke the kiss and Tony mentally got ready to be tossed into the unknown again. Or to be holding on to air. But Loki just stood there, eyes closed, lips pressed together.

Just when Tony was about to break the silence, the Asgardian put his left hand on Tony’s chest, thumb gently caressing Tony’s nipple through the fabric of his shirt. 

Loki opened his eyes. There was something desperate and hungry in their depths. Tony recognized it, knew it well. Had seen it in the mirror more than once.  
He raised his hand and ran his thumb very gently across Loki’s cheekbone. Then he leaned forward once more and pressed his lightly parted lips against the other man’s, but this time, he just waited.

Loki pulled back the fraction of an inch and mumbled: “Mmmm’drunk. Best not let me call the shots. Not when I’m like this. Best if you run the show. M’kay?”

With that, the Asgardian licked a stripe down Tony’s throat, then bit down hard just above his collarbone. Hard enough to draw blood. Tony yelped.

“See what I mean?” Loki whispered, then sucked at the bite.

“Not objecting here,” Tony said softly.

“You should. I don’t always know when to stop. Especially not when I’m inebriated.”

“You don’t seem too wasted, though.”

Loki leaned heavily against Tony and said with a slight snarl. “Never let them see your weakness, remember? Now what the hell do I have to do to get fucked around here?”

“Would it kill you to be civil?”

“Sounds like a lame line from a lame song. Get on with it already, before I pass out.”

Surely, he didn’t mean right here, right now, in the fucking garage?

There was a dangerous light in Loki’s eyes, so Tony decided to go with the less thinking, more action approach he usually favored, anyhow. So he grabbed the demigod and just slammed him down on the hood of the Viper, ripping the leather pants down in one vicious motion.

Tony made quick work of his own belt and pants, fumbled briefly for the lube in his pocket and hissed at Loki to lie still, when the Asgardian started to squirm.

He held the other man down with one hand on his neck, opened the lube with his teeth and briefly wondered if he should let go of Loki’s neck in favor of slicking up his fingers. He decided against it and simply emptied most of the lube directly into the cleft of that pale gorgeously rounded, firm ass.  
Messy, but effective.

He dipped his finger in the lubed-up cleft, gently stroking the puckered ring of muscle. Loki bucked.

“Lie still,” Tony said, quietly but with just a hint of command on his voice. Loki stilled instantly.

Stark breached the muscle, first with one finger, then, when Loki started making desperate, small noises, with two. When Tony first pushed against the Asgardian’s prostate, Loki started to get very vocal. Three fingers now and what sounded like swearwords in a tongue Tony didn’t understand.

“God, who’d have thought you’d be such a slut for it, Laufeyson,” Tony ground out as he lined himself up.

“Major turn on, as it turns out, man,” he whispered into Loki’s ear as he slowly pushed himself into that tight, hot ass.

“Keep up the noise. Wouldn’t mind a little begging.”

Nope, Tony wouldn’t mind a little begging at all, as he picked up speed, fucking the Asgardian with deep, hard thrusts.  
Loki clenched his fists, knuckles showing white, then whispered brokenly: “Please, Stark, please, harder.” Tony fucked Loki harder, bottoming out with every thrust.

“PLEASE! Again, God, Stark…”

The blood was rushing loudly through Tony’s ears and his whole world contracted to this one point in time, this one sensation and this one person he was sharing it with as they both came at nearly the same moment.

No sound from Loki. The other man was so still so suddenly, it was scary.  
Tony was panting, trying to pull himself together, once more uncertain about the entire situation.  
A little too late, Tony realized that he had forgotten to put on a condom. Great, barebacking a guy who probably had fucked half the universe.  
He pulled out, wincing a little at the squelching noise and the semen dribbling from Loki’s anus.

The Asgardian silently pushed himself off the hood of the car, roughly pulled up his pants and was gone. Had it not been for the smear of come on the otherwise spotless hood of the car, Tony would have thought he had hallucinated the entire episode.

He stared into space in disbelief for a few seconds.  
“What the fuck?”

 


	5. Deport me to the fiery deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I grew up fast, I guess I grew up mean  
> There's a thousand things inside my head I wish I ain't seen  
> And now I just wandered through a real bad dream  
> Feelin' like I'm coming apart at the seams
> 
> Thank you Jack Daniels, Old Number Seven,  
> Tennessee Whiskey got me drinking in heaven  
> Angels start to look good to me  
> They're gonna have to deport me to the fiery deep
> 
> Old Number 7, The Devil Makes Three

He knelt on the cold ground, shaking, the ever-present bottle clutched in his hand as if his life depended on it. He hadn’t been sober in days, maybe even weeks, who the hell was counting.  
The Trickster had run clean out of tricks.  
He might still be able to fool everyone else, but not even he could fool himself.

He was finished. No more grand schemes, no more devious plans. He had tricked his way to what he had wanted more than anything else, only to find out he didn’t want it at all. Not like this. Not when he had stolen the throne. It had to be GIVEN. Freely and because the Allfather thought he was worthy of it. Like this, it didn’t mean a thing.

Nothing meant a thing anymore, really. He was all alone. His brother despised him, his father had abandoned him and his mother… even thinking about it made his guts churn and his heart bleed.  
His heart.

He snorted and took another swig from the bottle.  
Curious thing, that. Hadn’t thought he had one, really, but there it was, all raw and torn and doing an uneasy dance inside his chest.

And then there was the human. Most vexing issue, that. Also, apparently, all about something that needed to be given freely. Something, maybe, that Loki would even have to ASK for.  
Not his area of expertise, that. And again with the heart, this useless piece of aching shit he neither wanted nor needed.

There had been that one moment of wild, insane joy when it had felt like Tony wanted him, liked him even, maybe, just a little bit. But that moment had passed all too quickly and the feeling was lost under layers of remorse and booze.

So he drank himself into a stupor. Drank until the pain faded into a dull drone in the background. Drank until his twisted mind came up with absurd dreams and schemes of happiness and a future that meant something. Drank until he was crazy enough to go to Stark for a brief moment of bliss and then more pain.

He laughed and it felt like the sound was ripping his insides to shreds

Tony was, for lack of a better word, antsy.   
It had been four nights since his last surprise visit from Asgard. He hated himself for wanting those visits, for needing that asshole in his life, even if it was only for a few moments and even if Tony had no clue what was really going on.

Loki.  
He’d flash into existence late at night, all tight pants and open-necked shirts, all teeth and nails and tongue and wickedly deft fingers. And sometimes it would be good. Light-hearted and passionate and Loki would smile. It was the other times that Tony had a problem with. The times when he’d look into the other man’s eyes and would see only darkness. When the sex felt like dancing on a razorblade.

He hated not knowing when that damned asshole would show up and he hated even more not knowing HOW it would be when Loki finally did make an appearance.   
Whatever. Not something he should be contemplating right now.  
It had been a long, hard day and Tony wearily poured himself a drink. Maybe it would not be a bad thing after all, if the Asgardian was a no show today.

Long, white fingers took the drink from his hand.   
Okay, not a no show, then. Tony sighed and poured another whisky for himself, pointedly not turning around, pointedly not looking up into the mirror behind the bar. Nope, he didn’t want to see just yet what kind of a night this would turn into. Although a prudent man might have looked just to see if he should have the first aid kit at the ready.

“So. Loki. Whuzzup?”

He could feel the other man’s breath on his neck. And damn, that was all it took to make the situation in Tony’s pants rather uncomfortable.

“Bored. Horny. Want to fuck. Questions?”

Oh great. One of those nights, then. Tony didn’t have to turn around to know exactly which expression would be on that haughty face. The cold, silent blackness of outer space would be reflected in the depths of those pale blue eyes and Loki’s smile would be hard and sharp as razorblades.

Pale fingers were pressing down on Tony’s crotch and he hissed in denial.

“Not in the mood, Stark? Your dick appears to be, so you’d better get with the program.”

“My dick is reacting to your body and it’s a nice enough body at that for the reaction to be appropriate. My mind, however, is reacting to your mood and wants none of your shit right now. So you best leave. It’s been a long, godawful day and I’m just done with… everything.”

“But just imagine how much better you will sleep when you’re all fucked out,” that silky voice whispered.  
Dammit. The man had a point there.  
No.  
Not tonight. Not when the Asgardian was in this kind of a mood.

“You do remember that I can simply TAKE what I want, don’t you?”

The voice held an ugly undertone, one that Tony couldn’t quite fathom.

“Theoretically, you could, yes, I am fully aware of that. But we both know you won’t, because YOU know it wouldn’t mean dick like that.”

“Why would I care?”

“Because you get a kick out of knowing I want you. You get a kick out of me consenting. Dunno why, but it’s a major turn on for you.”

Those pale, elegant fingers had wandered higher and were now teasing Tony’s nipples.

“What would it take to obtain your consent, then?”

God, that voice. So soft, so silky, like a caress.

“What would it take to improve your mood?” Tony whispered.

Probably a bad error of judgment, saying that, but the man HAD asked, hadn’t he? Tony waited for a reply. The silence was deafening. He half expected Loki to vanish, but he could still feel the Asgardian’s breath on his neck.   
He braced himself for a nasty reply, probably a request for some perverse sexual practice or something. Either that, or he’d find himself being thrown to the ground and taken without his consent after all.  
Instead a gentle thumb started stroking Tony’s jaw. Very distracting.

“We could sit and talk like civilized people.”

Now that…. that was… unexpected. There was a snarl in the voice, but it felt more like a tired reflex than anything else.   
Tony turned and gestured towards the sofa.  
As they sat down, he looked into Loki’s face for the first time and winced. Shit, the guy looked like hell.

“Bad day at the office?”

“You might say so,” Loki said softly, expression unreadable. He shrugged and drained his tumbler. “Nothing a good deal of whisky won’t resolve.”

He put down the empty tumbler with such exaggerated care that Tony wondered how many drinks Loki had had before even coming here. And where, exactly he was when he wasn’t staring a hole into space on Tony’s sofa.

Loki got up and casually sauntered over to the bar. He grabbed the bottle of whisky, asking “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Actually, I do. I think you’ve had quite enough already,” Tony replied, with a lot more confidence than he felt.

“Not by a long stretch, Tony,” Loki said, with one of those barbwire smiles that Tony hated with a fiery vengeance.   
It took a moment to sink in that Loki had called him by his first name. Not something the Asgardian usually did. Not even in the throes of passion. Tony decided to go with that, rather than the ugly expression on the man’s face.

“I guess it would be futile to point out that alcohol doesn’t in fact resolve anything and will eventually create a nice load of ugly-ass additional issues,” he said, keeping his face neutral and his voice gentle.

“Both futile and highly dangerous.”

Loki walked back to the sofa, bottle swinging in his hand. He sat back down and poured himself a generous double. Maybe even a triple. Tony frowned, but decided that it might be better to keep quiet. He sighed and ran a hand across his brow. Whatever. Something needed to be done and it looked like it had to be done by him. Which was great, really, because everyone knew that Tony Stark was easily the world’s best emotional crisis consultant. Him, so good with the talking thing. Fuck.

“You could try a new approach, though.”

“And what, pray, would that be, Tony?”

Again, Stark felt absurdly comforted by the use of his first name. Okay, here goes.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“What purpose would that serve, human?” Loki snarled.

Oh great. Yes, Tony, well done. This was a just going great, wasn’t it? He paused for a moment, trying frantically to come up with a good enough argument to avoid regretting that he hadn’t gotten the first aid get out.

“Well, firstly, you’d get it off your chest. Sometimes, it actually helps to say things out loud. You know, to… grasp. Cope. Thing. …. Aaaah… and secondly, I might be able to offer up some advice. I know, I know, measly human and all that jazz, but I am a successful businessman and I might have something up my sleeves that could be helpful.”

Truth be told, Tony thought as he picked himself up the floor hours later and limped to his bedroom, that could’ve gone so much worse.

Being told to shut his useless human mouth wasn’t so bad, given that it had been shut for him by that sinful mouth and eager tongue. Being tossed on the floor, well, not exactly his favorite. Being fucked into oblivion, well… that actually had been rather spectacular, if Tony ignored the things he had seen in Loki’s eyes.

But that was just the thing, wasn’t it. He couldn’t. Damned if he knew what to do about it, but the Asgardian obviously was close to breaking point and it didn’t look like there was anybody else willing to help.

The cold, empty look in Loki’s eyes Tony had learned to cope with. The full-on despair and naked anguish, however, he couldn’t.

Something needed to be done. Fuck. But what?

Loki balanced on the ledge of one of the big windows and watched the sun rise. Tony had actually ASKED. Had offered help. Not something Loki knew how to handle.   
He probably had seen to it that Tony would never ever do that again, when he had slammed into the man. When he had held him down and fucked him until he would have been hard pressed to tell where he ended and Tony began. No, he really, really didn’t know how to handle that.  
But Tony had screamed his name when he had come.

Loki smiled. Hope. Such a flimsy and frail thing.


	6. 100 words on achieving blissful silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another tiny little installment. I know, I keep starting things and then it takes me forever to finish, but maybe if I stick to drabbles and ficlets, we'll get somewhere in the end.

He was holding on to his drink like his life depended on it.

There were two things he was drowning himself in these days. Booze and Tony Stark. Both helped to silence the noise inside his head.

Of course, he had begun unraveling a while ago. So much betrayal, so much pain, when Odin had taken away Loki’s birthright, his identity, his very existence. He had irrevocably lost faith in any- and everything and what had been mischief and a prankster’s mindset had turned into vengeance, cold hatred and disdain.

Except when he lost himself in that man’s arms.


	7. I shouldn't kill you yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title once more from Jonathan Coulton's bloody brilliant song Skullcrusher Mountain, inspiration from tumblr's SSS Call for Fic: "Tearing the House Apart: Have you ever knocked a bed off its frame? Sent a lamp crashing to the floor? Imagine Tom doing that during sexytimes… and of course since it’s Tom, there’ll be no namby-pamby messes, we’re talking full-on scene annihilation here! (j/k, maybe).  
> Theme Guidelines:  
> Tom or his character  
> Totally wrecking the house, the car, the picnic table, whatever  
> Sexy, smutty, erotic"
> 
> Guess this pairing kind of... fits the bill.

“So, that suit of yours… you can open your visor. You can retract a single glove. What else can you open individually?”

Given how much Loki slurred the word ‘individually’, Tony should’ve stopped things then and there. But then again, he had no clue anymore how to stop Loki, not when he came to him in THAT mood and THAT state of inebriation.

So he just shrugged inwardly and said, “What do you want me to open and why?”

He had been on a SHIELD assignment, in a destroyed city in Syria. The inhabitants had fled, but someone had left something behind that SHIELD needed Tony to get out of there. He’d just dropped off the prize, when his green and gold dreamboy (or was that nightmare?) had appeared out of the blue once more.

Drunk as a skunk, as usual. And horny. As usual.

“I don’t want to hold back right now,” Loki said, much too softly, as one gloved hand caressed Tony’s cheek through the open visor. “But if I don’t hold back, I might kill you. So. Open the things I need opened in order to fuck you and shut everything else.”

“Safer sex, Asgard style?” Tony all but snarled. Yeah, good choice. Egg the drunken God admittedly in a violent mood on some more, will you.

“Jotun style,” Loki replied with an ugly grin, skin turning blue, eyes going red, swirly markings forming on his face.

Tony was screaming Loki’s name, as he was literally being fucked through a wall. The remainder of the abandoned building crumbled on top of them, as the Trickster mercilessly pounded into Tony.  He found himself tossed into the next building. Loki caught a steel beam a fraction of an inch before it impaled Tony.

Stark cursed himself soundly for playing along with this. Even without the dangerously frail buildings they were having sex in, Loki could still hurt him considerably, with just the visor open and Tony’s nether regions blowing in the wind.

There were pieces of gravel where gravel had neither right nor reason to be.

Ah, great, now Loki had managed to fuck him through the floor and into the basement. He was draped over a pile of rubble, the Frost Giant still pummelling him like there was no tomorrow. With every brutal thrust, Loki slammed into Tony’s prostate and the sensations made him sob and beg and scream.

Tony hated himself for giving in to Loki like this. He hated the feeling of being nothing more than a very responsive sex toy.  
At the same time, Tony couldn’t help himself. He came. Again and again and AGAIN. Screaming Loki’s name all the way until his voice gave.

Only Loki could do that to him.

Only Loki would quench the thirst in him.

Only Loki.

Always and forever Loki.


	8. Can I take this for granted with your eyes over me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Livejournal comment_fic prompt by reeby10: any, any/any, lacy green underwear   
> Title from Eurythimics, Sex Crime
> 
> The God of Mischief finds a Victoria's Secret catalogue

Somehow, Tony should not be pissed off that he caught Loki leafing through the latest Victoria's Secret catalogue, ogling the goods. And he most definitely was NOT jealous, no sir. 

It should not matter, really. Tony should be happy that Laufeyson had shown up relatively sober for a change and had started to develop an interest in Tony's belongings. The man had gone over Tony's books, with a lot of head shaking and tut-tutting, had picked up random objects, asked a few questions and then had honed in on the catalogue. 

A wicked smile on his lips, the Asgardian had asked a question here and there about Midgardian underwear and its uses, pointed out which of the models he'd like to fuck, detailed HOW he wanted to fuck them and so on and so forth. In short, Loki was being his usual annoying self. 

After a few minutes of this, Loki had helped himself to a drink, then another and another, as he went from being indecent in the details he was describing to downright pornographic. He was leaning against Tony's bookshelf, getting progressively more sloshed and more leery. Tony hated it when Loki was drunk. It inevitably always lead to rough sex, with the God of Mischief vanishing basically at the moment of completion. 

Tony was half glad when Loki went back to leafing through the catalogue. Was the damned Asgardian giggling? And about WHAT, pray, exactly? 

Now Loki was looking at Tony, expression intense. He put the catalogue aside. Finally. The Asgardian walked over to the sofa and placed a sloppy, wet, open-mouthed kiss on Tony's lips, before he turned the human roughly around and the inevitable happened. 

Tony hated himself for not even protesting when Loki manhandled him and basically used him like a sex toy. This time, the guy had at least stayed for a few seconds, forehead resting against Tony's shoulder, panting hard, before he had whisked himself away. 

The next day, Tony came home bone weary after a particularly aggravating day at the office to find Loki lounging on his bed. Tony just stood there, gaping, for what seemed like an eternity. 

The God of Mischief was wearing nothing but the flimsiest fucking excuse of a corsage, suspenders, stockings and pants, in green lace with golden trimmings. 

"Well, Stark, is this to your liking? Does it turn you on?" Loki asked. 

There was something weirdly vulnerable in his eyes.   
Tony sighed and ran his hands over his own smarting eyes. This was going to be a long night. 

"Turn around on your belly, princess and I'll show you exactly how much this turns me on," he said finally, giving in to the inevitable, but not really expecting Loki to do what he wanted for a chance. 

To his surprise, the God complied without any protest and Tony was treated to a spectacular view of what he secretly thought was the most gorgeous butt in creation, gift wrapped in green lace. 

Time to unpack his present.


	9. The air went out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt over at LiveJournal's comment_fic group's Thursday theme of "songs" by daria234:   
> MCU, any male/any male (DCU crossovers welcome too), I don't know who you think you are. But before the night is through. I wanna do bad things with you.

"Just who the hell do you think you are?" Tony snarled. 

He was furious. About ten seconds ago, he had been in a fancy restaurant with Pepper and now? Now he was in fucking Asgard in his altogether, facing once more his Drunkass Highness, Loki Laufeyson and very seriously asking himself why the hell his dick was glad to see the fucker. 

Loki slowly and deliberately got up from the armchair he had been lounging on and walked over to stand behind Tony. Much, much too closely behind Tony. 

"I THINK I am Loki of Asgard and I THINK I require your presence for fornication purposes," the exasperating dickhead whispered in Tony's ear, as his long, deft fingers applied just the right amount of pressure to the length of Stark's penis. 

There was no smell of booze on Loki's breath tonight. Good sign. Maybe. Tony sighed. What choice did he have, anyhow? 

"So... what exactly did you have in mind, then, Loki?" he asked. 

"Mmmmh... wicked, wicked things," that velvety voice whispered as the fingers massaged Tony's balls. 

The other hand pinched Tony's nipple. 

"Oh so very bad things," Loki half-moaned in Tony's ear. 

The air rushed from Tony's lungs, his mind reeling with possibilities. 

"I need to be back in the morning. Intact. With two dozen roses for Pepper." 

"Noon. Three dozen roses. More or less intact." 

"Deal."


	10. 100 words on the kiss of death, the hand of fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt on LiveJournal's Comment_fic group, theme "dirty" song lyrics, by ivotedforsaxon:  
> Any, any hero/villain, I don't want to be your friend  
> I want to fuck you like I'm never gonna see you again
> 
> Quotes by Kid Rock, So Hott
> 
> You got a body like the devil and you smell like sex  
> I can tell you're trouble but I'm still obsessed

He was pressed into the mattress by strong, elegant hands. This night so far was spectacular. Sober Loki equalled hot sex that might not leave Tony broken and bleeding for a change.  
Tony didn’t try to swallow his moans, grunts and other assorted low, throaty sex noises. This was amazing. Unparalleled.  
He came with a scream.

Loki collapsed on top of Tony’s sweat-slicked body. It had been a great for a change. Things hadn’t been awkward and he had made Tony scream. With lust, not pain.  
He felt good for the first time in months.  
Sane. Wanted. Like a person.

 


	11. Oops, cats, bags and things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comment_fic prompt over at LiveJOurnal  
> classics_lover: MCU, Tony Stark +/ any, (510): "this makes me concerned. not enough to actually do anything about it, but yeah."

Bruce walked into Stark's office and stopped short, a cheerful "hiya Tony" dying a sudden, unexpected death on his lips. 

Tony was draped over his desk, buck naked, with a man very obviously doing with Tony what Bruce had somehow assumed Tony only did with women. So to speak. Best not go into more detail there. 

Tony turned his head towards the intruder, a blissed out expression on his face. 

"Oh, hey, Bruce, could you... maybe wait in the antechamber for a bit? Be with you in a sec. K?" 

The other man turned his head as well at that and Bruce looked into the icy eyes of Loki Laufeyson. 

Now what had started out as an unexpected bit of intel about Tony's sexual orientation had definitely turned into a cause for alarm. Fornicating with the enemy was absolutely not something that should be happening. 

Bruce decided to take a few deep breaths and wait, as instructed. With a more zen attitude, the scale of the issue at hand might actually dwindle down a bit. 

After a few minutes, a flushed and flustered Tony emerged from his office, obviously dressed in a haste, with buttons askew any which way. 

"So, errrm, Banner, about THAT..." 

"Not gonna lie to you, Stark. This makes me concerned. Not enough to actually do anything about it, but yeah. Sleeping with the enemy.. Tony... seriously?" 

"He's not asking any questions, he's not trying to make me switch sides. Well, not since the first time it happened, anyways. He just turns up and we fuck. End of story." 

They looked at eachother in silence for a bit. 

Then Tony asked hesitantly: "The other thing, you okay with that?" 

"What other thing?" 

"Him, you know, him being a he?" 

"Why the hell wouldn't I be?" 

Tony merely smiled, then proceeded to pour two stiff ones. 

"Nice ass, you know. Not that I'm into evil, skinny Asgardians, but, yeah. Nice ass," Bruce said with a smirk, taking a sip of his brandy. 

"Hey, I got my standards. Not many, granted, but I wouldn't let just anybody..." 


	12. The world was on fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's POV after he overhears part of the conversation between Bruce and Tony. Title and quotes from Chris Isaak's Wicked Game.

_What a wicked game you played to make me feel this way_   
_what a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you_

"Not gonna lie to you, Stark. This makes me concerned. Not enough to actually do anything about it, but yeah. Sleeping with the enemy.. Tony... seriously?"

"He's not asking any questions, he's not trying to make me switch sides. Well, not since the first time it happened, anyways. He just turns up and we fuck. End of story."

End of story. Yeah. Loki snorted. That was all he was to the human. A willing penis and a willing glory hole, depending on his mood. He took a gulp from the bottle. What had he been thinking? Dressing up in stupid lingerie, trying to show up moderately sober, or, well, at least functioning.   
  
That was all he was doing, wasn't it? Functioning. More or less. He could barely keep it together in Asgard and he had no business to keep slinking down to Midgard like a horny dog. Tony felt nothing for him. And why should he?

_What a wicked thing to say you never felt this way_   
_what a wicked thing to do to make me dream of you_

Loki's long, slender fingers traveled South. He sloppily stroked himself, but there was just no espcaping the darkness tonight, not even with that.

He moaned Tony's name and hated himself for doing so. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in that man's body, but all those times when Tony had said that it didn't mean a thing unless Stark consented to it, he had been right. And wrong at the same time.

It didn't mean squat unless Tony consented, but then again, it also meant squat unless Tony truly lo... he swallowed that word before it could fully form. Unless Tony wanted Loki, too. Unless Loki was more than a distraction.

_It's strange what desire makes foolish people do_

Loki looked into the opulent mirror on the wall. An ugly, pathetic drunk was all he saw, before it shattered into a thousand booze-spattered pieces when the bottle hit the mirror's cruel surface.

_Nobody loves no one_


	13. 100 words on a slippery slope

Loki had yelled at Tony for almost an hour and Stark was sick and tired of the entire thing.

He probably shouldn't have mentioned Loki's alcohol intake at all. Wasn't any of his business, it was just that... The Asgardian had been in even worse shape than usual and Tony had been worried.

Didn't mean he was going to keep standing there, being insulted in languages he didn't even understand. 

When Loki lurched towards Tony to glare at him in silence for  a change, Tony just... couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, go to Hell, Laufeyson!" Tony snapped.

And Loki vanished.


	14. All of my devils are free at last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise I will find a way to make this okay eventually. Okay?
> 
> Title from SIXX A.M.'s song Permission.

Tony had told him to go to Hel and so Loki did.

He staggered towards her, brimstone taste on his tongue. The fetid air was burning his lung and made his eyes water.

He was seeing double and he wasn't sure it was from the alcohol.

He had tried other ways before, of course, but his body so far had withstood whatever damage he had inflicted. Nothing had worked. He would always be dragged back to consciousness, no matter how close to the end he had made it. He had actually made his heart stop several times, but no matter what he tried, in the end he would wake up and be forced to endure another day.

"What do you want, Loki Laufeyson," Hel asked, looking at the drunken, desperate demigod in front of her impassively.

"To die," Loki slurred, "To be put out of my misery like a dog."

Hel laughed. Loki's eardrums burst at the sound, but his entire body kept registering the cackle as sheer agony, as it went on and on.  
Rocks started to drop from the ceiling, hitting Loki's body over and over and over again.

Finally, it stopped.   
His ears mended themselves, but his body remained broken and bleeding.

"Death would be a mercy. I do not deal in mercy, I deal in punishment. Your punishment, Loki Laufeyson, is life."

Tony woke up parched. He sighed, got up and padded towards the kitchen. In the living room, he stopped short when his naked feet encountered something slightly warm and sticky.

"Jarvis, lights!"

Oh God. He was standing in a puddle of blood. He followed a trail that looked like someone had dragged a body to the terrace.

Loki was sitting on the floor, legs sprawled out, back resting against the wall, one hand fisted in his coat. There was blood everywhere.

"Jesus H. Christ on a fucking pogo stick, what the fuck did you do to yourself this time?" Tony bellowed, trying to mask his shock and panic with anger.

"Did.. did wha... what you told me to do," Loki whispered, slurring the words almost beyond recognition, "Went to Hel."


	15. Save the fading light in our souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know this doesn't look like I'm making it any better, but I swear I am!

_On broken wings I'm falling_  
_And it won't be long_  
_The skin on me is burning_  
_By the fires of the sun_  
_On skinned knees_  
_I'm bleeding_  
_And it won't be long_  
_I've got to find that meaning_  
_I'll search for so long_

_Alter Bridge, Broken Wings_

Pretence.   
If he didn't keep up the pretence, he would shatter into a million pieces.  
   
So after resetting bones for the third time, only to have them snap back to their previous position, Tony merely wrapped gauze around limbs that angled in the wrong direction in wrong places and pretended he knew what he was doing. 

No curse had been placed on the man by the ancient goddess of Norse purgatory for his wounds to stay exactly as they were.

When the shaking started, he wrapped the gaunt body up in warm blankets, pretending it was the cold of winter that was causing it.  
When the vomiting started, he patiently held the bucket, pretending the soup he had cooked for the man had not been okay.

None of that had anything to do with Tony pouring several thousand dollars' worth of liquor and wine down the drain to make sure his place was booze free. 

And when, among the broken sounds, the sobs and the curses, the man whispered "I love you", Tony pretended there was something wrong with his hearing, then walked quickly from the room.

Gripping the kitchen counter hard enough to cause some damage to the wood, he tried to hold on to the million pieces of his soul, as his universe collapsed and contracted to that one broken, bleeding, deeply flawed and strangely perfect person in his bedroom.

 


	16. You can lead him to the ambulance, but you cannot make him live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took me so long.  
> And we're not at the happy ending just yet, but... I still fully intend to take you there.
> 
> Title taken from Sixx:A.M., Dead Man's Ballet

“You need to stop. Dear God, Loki, you need to PLEASE stop!“

Tony was begging, had been for the last six hours straight. He was almost incoherent at this point. He hadn’t understood for the longest time that it was not withdrawal that was keeping Loki from healing himself, it was the Asgardian’s own will. Loki kept snapping his own bones as soon as they mended themselves. He did it, looking straight into Tony’s eyes, over and over again.

Stark was mopping blood up by the buckets. At first, he had yelled at Loki, ordering him to stop, trying to insult him into stopping, trying to shock him into ceasing to self-mutilate. To no avail. He had badgered, he had cajoled, he had tried to bribe the ghostly shell of his lover. Nothing.

Now? Now, after the hellish withdrawal and after not getting any sleep for days on end, he was down to begging, plain and simple, an endless mantra of “please”, a continuous barrage of “no”. He could hardly see anything anymore, his eyes were nearly swollen shut from crying. There didn’t seem to be enough air in the penthouse, his lungs were complaining of lack of oxygen and his throat was raw.

He had opened all windows and doors to the roof terrace, the air conditioning was on at full blast and these tasks had driven him to the point of collapse. So, in the end, collapse he did. On the bed, onto the stinking mattress, soaked with blood and sweat, next to the love of his life who simply wouldn’t the fuck LISTEN to Tony.

He could hear the sound of his own harsh, labored breath. It sounded thunderous in his own ears as he wiggled an inch closer to Loki, his forehead coming to rest against the Asgardian’s clammy jaw.

There was nothing left to do.

There was nothing left to say.

And there was nothing left to loose, except the inacceptable.

So he said it. Out loud. Three words that threatened to rip his throat to shreds. Three words that might make his heart combust. Three feeble words that, out loud, sounded utterly inadequate and hopelessly pathetic.

“I love you.”

Then, he closed his eyes and passed out from sheer exhaustion.


	17. I'm just a product of a living hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And on we go.
> 
> Title and quote from Prayers for the Damned by Sixx:A.M.

_Have you ever been abused by someone_  
_So blue that it chills your soul_  
_Have you ever been afraid of your own ghost_  
_I’m just a creature of a broken past_  
_We’re all looking for a second chance_  
_And I don’t wanna live like this no more_

_And all the madness rages in my head_  
_Sometimes I wish I was..._

White noise and pain. That was what his world had constricted to. There was no yesterday and no tomorrow, there was just now and now was hell. The flood gates had been opened when he had gone to hell and everything had come crashing down on him.

The irony of it all was not lost on him. There was enough sanity left to see how ridiculously he had played into the hands of fate, when his anger and confusion over his true origins had sent him hurtling down and ever down into the abyss.

He had fallen for so long that he had given up on ever hitting bottom. He would die, eventually, tearing through the void. But then he had hit solid ground, after what seemed like a thousand years of falling. Smashed to pieces, all but dead, Thanos had met with no resistance when he had taken over Loki, mind and body. When he had taken that anger and confusion and had twisted it into something so much darker, so much more dangerous and so beyond sanity that there simply was no coming back from it.

Loki had descended upon Earth, cloaked in madness and despair. The small part of sanity he had retained even then had not been sure if he was hoping for victory or merciful death. The latter would surely free him from Thanos, the former would only bring momentary relief, so in the end he had hoped the green abomination would smash the blue abomination to pieces, so Loki could finally be free.

None of that had happened, so here he was, in the realm of white noise and pain. He was dimly aware that someone was there with him - a constant voice that faded in and out of the white noise and touches that sent red hot spikes of pain through his body. Could be Tony, could be a monster intent on causing more pain. In the end, it did not matter, because Hel had told him he would never be free.

White noise and pain.

“I love you.”

And pain.


	18. 100 words, reborn from the chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a drabble that just came to me...  
> Babysteps?

The sun was painting a pattern on his skin. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, when the play of the light caught his eye. He couldn’t remember when his arms had become so thin. They looked almost like bare bones, pale and stick-like.

The man who took care of him had put cloth over the broken bits, so he wouldn’t have to see them while tending to the broken man.

Starktonystark had looked ill when he had asked his name. As if he were supposed to know. Curious. How could he, when he didn’t even know his own?


End file.
